Funny Anecdotes

Wifey says I need to write down some funny things that have happened to me over the years, even if they were in the distant past. In deference to her, and because my blog title DOES contain the adjective "funny," I will do that, from time to time.

Earlier this week, an old friend stopped by my office with her boyfriend, and brought donuts. She told me she always thinks about my donut story, and asked me to tell him. I did, and here it is:

In 1986, I was a newly minted lawyer, and I drove to the Broward County Courthouse in Ft. Lauderdale to cover a hearing. I called the office from a pay phone (cell phones were nearly a decade away) to ask if anyone needed anything more in Broward before I returned to Miami. Marcy took the call.

Marcy was ten years my senior, and she was the office manager. I could describe her, but a shortcut is to say that when I saw the Mike Myers Linda Richman character, I assumed he based it on Marcy. The difference was that MArcy was from Boston, and had a Brookline instead of Brooklyn accent, but in every other way she was Linda Richman.

She was large and never married. She had a tiny white fluffy dog that accompanied her everywhere. She had the ear of the owner of the law firm, and she was IN CHARGE. Her answer to my question was "Bring donuts back, you twerp." There was no chance I wasn't going to obey her.

In the 1980s, before gentrification, Ft. Lauderdale was the white trash capital of South Florida, and the center of this was US 1 south of Broward Boulevard. Instead of heading for I-95, I took US 1, figuring there had to be a donut shop. As I passed a strip center South of Davie Road, I saw a sign that said "R --The Donut." I parked and walked over to the place.

I knew right away that something was amiss. When I entered, instead of a big glass storefront window, there was a dark corridor, like one encounters when going into a lounge. Once I got inside, there was disco music playing, and donuts and coffee being served to an array of "CAT TRAILER" cap wearing men. The waitresses wore nothing but shorts.

I had walked into a TOPLESS DONUT shop!

I was the only one there wearing a suit. A bleach blonde woman with enormous torpedoes beckoned me to the counter. "Hi sweetie --what can I get you?"

I stammered "Uh --I need a dozen to go."

Jackie (she had a name badge on her shorts) burst out laughing, and called out to her compatriots "This guy wants donuts to go!" They all started laughing, too.

I, of course, felt like a total schmuck. Who gets donuts to go from a topless donut shop? The entire raison d' etre of a topless shop is to stay there and look at the breasts.

Still, I was 25, wearing a $200 blue suit, and I was a baby lawyer, and I had to get back to my office, lest Marcy yell at me. And, truth be told, many of the waitresses there sort of LOOKED like MArcy, but with nicer breasts.

Jackie started searching around for a box. R --The Donut truly had no supplies for carry out. She finally went to the back and brought back a cardboard container that held paper towels. "What kind you want, honey?" I told her just to mix and match.

As she was about to place the last donut into the paper towel box, she rubbed some of the cream from it on herself, laughed, leaned toward me and asked "You wanna at least have SOMETHING here in the restaurant?" I declined, and asked her how much.

It turned out the donuts cost $5 each. I only had $50 on me, and they didn't take credit cards. I was about to go from schmuck to schlemiel, and tell her never mind, but Jackie turned out to be a true archetype: the stripper (or topless donut waitress) with the heart of gold. "Just give me $50 and we'll call it even, sweetie."

I retreated into the bright morning sun, carrying my oversized cardboard box of expensive donuts, and drove back to Miami.

Marcy never asked why the donuts came in a "Bounty" box. She wolfed down 3 donuts before I even had the chance to hang up my suit jacket.

"These are really bad for my diet," she said, "but they're great donuts. Stop at the same place and get some more, next time you go to the Broward Courthouse."

Last time I heard, over 10 years ago, Marcy had married a plumber who had come to her Aventura condo to install a custom sink. She outweighed him by 100 lbs.

R--The Donut is no longer there, I don't suppose.